


Wake Up

by darkly_dreamings



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Gay, Gay Romance, Gore, Horror, M/M, Nightmare, Sex, bottom!frederick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-16 20:17:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3501476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkly_dreamings/pseuds/darkly_dreamings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the darkest recesses of Chilton's mind lie nightmares and lustful thoughts. After being taken under the wing of Will Graham, Frederick can't help but feed the lustful desires that lie inside of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wake Up

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the hiatus! College has really been kicking my ass! Here is a smutty fanfic I've had on my laptop for months, I hope you Fannibals enjoy!

Through the worn-out blinds the glow of a softly rising sun crept into the spare bedroom of the Graham house. The light shimmered on the floor, illuminating the blood soaked clothes that laid scattered at the foot of the bed. Slowly the sunlight climbed, eventually resting on the tightly shut eyes of Doctor Frederick Chilton, who laid bound in a thick quilt at the end of the bed. Distressed he let out a loud sigh that filled the room, he rubbed his eyes with his free hand. The other clutched the quilt tightly. His eyes burned from a lack of sleep, his face felt puffy and scruffy. Frederick scanned the room, giving his eyes time to adjust, when they fell upon his suit. Crumpled and stained with another man’s blood. He could feel his stomach turn as images of mangled FBI agents flooded his eyes. Repulsed Frederick clenched the quilt, pleading to himself to make the images go away. He could feel tears begin to well up in his eyes, never before had he felt so terrified.

 

“Will?”, he whimpered.

 

Frederick could feel his voice crack. He cleared this throat and tried once more. Stern and harsh. He wasn’t a softy.

 

“Will”, but received no answer.

 

Blinking away the tears, Chilton felt around for his cane, once in hand he slid to the edge of the bed. Allowing his feet to gently touch the frozen wooden flooring. With all his might, Frederick rose off the bed and shifted that weight on his cane. Every inch of his body ached. Every movement sent flames to his joints. Trudging to the door, the quilt remained adorned upon his shoulders. Frederick slowly opened the bedroom door, hearing it’s creaks echo through the house.

 

“Will!”, but was again greeted by silence.

 

Slowly he made his way down the hall and into the kitchen. Will Graham’s kitchen was a small and homely place that left much to be desired. Not like the marble countered masterpiece Frederick called his kitchen. The cabinets were wooden, just like the pantry. The stove was a small stainless steal thing that looked like it was on it’s last leg. The sink was stainless steal as well. Limping to the cabinet something caught Frederick’s eye. It was a small piece of paper that sat alone on the wooden service. In one quick swipe Frederick brought it to his eyes and began decoding Will’s scratchy handwriting. 

 

“ _Frederick, I’ve gone to work. The dogs are in the back room, I know they bother you. Please do not leave the house or try to make any phone calls of any kind. I’m going to talk to Crawford today and get your name cleared. Stay safe, I should be home around 8. Will_.”

 

Frederick felt a sharp heat run up his spine. He was a wanted man. Right this second the FBI is probably tearing his home apart.

Frederick was torn from his thoughts by the sound of a deprived stomach. Glancing at the pantry then back at the note, his thoughts got the best of him and he ended up on the lumpy couch in the living room. Frederick felt the fear in the pit of his stomach. 

_What will happen to me if the find me?_  

_What if Will gives me away?_

_What if Jack knows I’m here?_

_What if…Hannibal knew I was…_

Frederick gripped the quilt, his palm grew sweaty and he could feel his arms begin to shake.

_What do I do?_

_What do I do?_

_What do I do?_

Frederick slumped down onto the couch as little whimpers of helplessness escaped his lips. He buried his face in the quilt, and tried with all his might not to cry but he could feel the tears soaking into the quilt. With his mind clouding with fear and his stomach raging Frederick allowed himself to become swallowed by the darkness.

 

***

Something wet had dripped off of Frederick’s fingers. Slimy and warm. Slowly opening his eyes he saw Winston, the star Graham hound, at the foot of couch tenderly nibbling and licking at the doctor’s fingers. Annoyed, Frederick let out an exhausted grunt and shooed the Graham dog away.

 

“I thought Will put those things away”, the doctor muttered to himself.

 

Taking a large breathe through the nose, his nostrils where filled with the smell of cheap aftershave. Will’s aftershave. That had been embedded in the quilt that he secured himself in. Frederick wrinkled his nose in disgust, “How could he buy this stuff?”, yet there was a comfort in that familiar smell of cheap, store brand aftershave. It was musky yet watered down, almost like Will was there with him. Frederick sat up and looked around the darkened Graham house, a clock with painted trout on it read half past seven.

 

Outside the Virginian sun had just set and the snow glowed a soft blue with hints of purple. Frederick could feel the icy wind graze his exposed legs, causing him to embed himself in the thick quilt further. The doctor had been lying and sleeping in a plain black t-shirt and black boxer briefs, which, in the middle of December, didn’t provide the most protection from the December elements. Frederick buried his nose in the quilt again, embracing the aftershave. It was the only thing that could make him feel better.

_BARK!_ Frederick nearly catapulted off the couch,

 

“What?! What do you want?!”, he shouted as his heart pounded out of his chest.

 

Winston only looked with his large brown eyes.

 

“I wasn’t doing anything!”, the doctor protested.

 

“I was simply…just…it’s none of your business!”

 

Winston’s eyes met Frederick’s for a brief moment before trotting off into the kitchen. Chilton stood still for a few moments, his heart still beating at a quick pace.

 

_You should learn to mind your own business._

 

It was just after eight when Frederick began to roam the Graham house. He chuckled and gawked at the furnishings that Will had collected. Much of it being woodsy and much of it screamed _fisherman_ or _mountain-man._ Paintings of the Virginian wild and wood, as well as wildlife. Frederick admired Will’s lures and fish hooks, taking time to appreciate their craftsmanship and dedication. However, his favorite were various photos of a younger Graham and his father down in Louisiana. Some included Will working at his father’s boat shop in his teens. Will had a beautiful smile, but never showed it. Not anymore at least.

Exploring caused feelings of loneliness in Chilton. He missed his own home, his marble floorings, the stainless steal kitchen, his therapeutic bed made with memory foam, his shower that had the multiple settings, and all of his expensive shampoos and japanese conditioners. Yet the thing Frederick missed most was his closet of expensive suits and the highest quality grade of hand sewn clothing. Nothing like those plaid shirts that Will wore. Will had tons of them, one in every color at least. _Speaking of which…_ Frederick peered down the hall, eyeing the door that lead to Will Graham’s room. 

 

_Should I?_

_No._

_That’s rude._

_That’s an evasion of privacy._

 

Yet Frederick Chilton could not deny the curiosity he had, ever since he had laid eyes on Will for the first time he had…felt something.

Numerous times he tried to deny it.

 

His rugged appearance, _disgusting!_

 

His fashion sense, _dreadful!_

 

 

His aftershave, _pathetic!_

 

His soft and yet stern voice, _appealing._

 

His chiseled jawline, _captivating._

 

His crystal clear eyes that had seen so much, _desirable._

 

Frederick had never developed feelings for a man before…for anyone actually. Sure he had crushes in high-school but Will was different. In every sense of the word.Yet Frederick had always been alone. That’s how he liked it. Alone. In his big house, alone. In his big office, alone… No one had ever paid any attention to him… No one cared about Frederick Chilton, and he didn’t care about anyone else. 

_And yet…_

Frederick’s grip tightened around the quilt as he pulled it closer to him.

The wooden flooring creaked underneath Frederick’s feet, every step sent a chorus of wooden shouts. The door to Will’s room seemed farther and farther away, each step causing the door to slide further away.

 

Almost instantly Frederick found himself standing in the doorway to Will's room. The bed all made, the wooden furnishings looking polished and well kept. The smell of aftershave was stronger than before, almost as if all the oxygen in the room was replaced with the smell of Will Graham. Frederick clutched the quilt and took a deep breathe through the nose once more. He smiled into the blanket as his mind became flooded with images of Will. His rough stubble brushing against Frederick's chin. His hard and calloused hands wrapping themselves around Chilton's waist. Frederick slowly opened his eyes to find the top drawer of Will's dresser opened a crack. In a nervous waddle, Frederick made his way to the dresser to find it filled with undershirts, socks and...some of Will's underwear.

 

Small blue boxer shorts.

Folded neatly and smoothly.

 

Unable to contain himself Frederick reached in an retrieved a pair. His hand trembling with nerves as he brought it to his nose. Even to his surprise Frederick let out a soft moan that seemed to echo throughout the empty house. The sound startled Frederick himself and caused him to look around the room nervously. When he saw that the coast was clear he immediately slipped out of his tight black undergarments and slipped on Will's blue boxer shorts. The shorts rubbed against Frederick in a euphoric way. Shutting his eyes tightly Frederick slipped his hand into the boxer shorts and wrapped his fingers around his length.

 

The smell of aftershave was all Frederick could smell, hell, it was all he could breathe. As the doctor found himself lying in the very bed Will Graham slept in. Frederick's hips gyrating into the bed, brushing his ever hardening manhood against those blue boxers. The doctor's hands clutched the sheets tightly as moans and curses escaped his lips. 

 

"Mr. Graham... I've wanted this for so long..."

 

his voice seemed to pour out of his lips, dripping with lust. Frederick could feel Will's mouth on his neck. Biting into his flesh, sending shots of electricity throughout his body. Frederick soon found himself sliding a finger inside himself. Pushing it into his prostate, massaging his sweet spot as his other hand went to work on his leaking cock. Frederick could taste the lips of Will Graham. He could feel Will's hardness pushing inside of him. Fucking him without mercy.

 

"Will...please....please make me cum...Will I-"

 

The fantasy seemed too real. Frederick was reaching his boiling point. Further he pushed inside himself and the rougher his strokes became. The blue boxer shorts now soaked in the pre-cum that flowed out of the doctor. Frederick could feel his balls tighten. He was close. With desperate cries escaping his throat, Chilton erupted into his hand. Drenching the boxers as well as his own stomach, Frederick watched as ropes of white lust shot out of his manhood and onto the sheets of Will's bed. He gasped for breathe as he oozed the last bit of his desire out.

 

The smell of aftershave had vanished from the room. 

 

“ _Frederick?_ ”

 

He froze. The sound almost came like a whisper, brushing past his ear in a void of empty space.

In a panic Frederick stuffed himself inside the ill fitting (and now dripping) boxer shorts. Leaping into the hallway, and doing his best to cover himself with the cum stained quilt.

 

“ _Frederick..._ ”

 

The doctor slowly turned his head. Moonlight shined through the windows of the Graham house, outlining the silhouette of a man. Who appeared to be standing in the doorway to the house. Frederick breathed a sigh of fear that seemed to fill the room,

 

 

“Will, my god, you scared me half to death”, the doctor admitted.

 

He began to walk closer to the familiar figure when something wet wrapped itself around his foot. Peering down it appeared to be a dark pool of liquid, it formed in a puddle around Frederick.

 

“Will…what is-?”

 

 

His head shot back to the dark figure, he could see two large antlers growing from it’s head. In a panic Frederick griped the quilt tightly, his skin turning a harsh white color. Frederick tried to run but fear had paralyzed him, his feet did not budge…and…something wet was running down his legs… In a nervous glance Frederick peered down at his legs, he could see blood flowing from a large open wound in his stomach. The same wound Abel Gideon had carved into him. In the moon light Frederick could see his own organs slowly, spilling out of him, causing the pool of dark liquid to expand at his feet. Small whimpers of fear and desperation escaped the doctor’s lips. Everywhere he looked he saw blood.

 

_Blood everywhere._

_Help Me._

_I’m Dying._

 

Frederick felt his mind slipping and his body going limp, the figure stood before him now. It’s large black humanoid hand outstretched, the figure kept repeating, “Frederick”, in a calm and steady voice.

Everything began to blur.

 

 

"You've been an awfully bad boy, Frederick"

 

Chilton fell to his knees, the dark liquid splashing onto the walls. The figures hand wrapped around Frederick's throat.

  
Everything went black.

 

* * *

“Frederick”, the words crept softly into his ear.

 

 

“Frederick”, kindly and softly.

 

 

“Frederick”, just like the creature.

 

“Frederick”, the creature that gutted him.

 

_Frederick—_

 

The doctor’s eyes shot open as he frantically sat up, knocking head’s with Will Graham, who was leaning over the doctor, trying to wake him.

 

“And a good morning to you as well”, Will muttered out as he rubbed his forehead in the spot of impact.

 

Will stood there in his red plaid shirt, his worn jeans and borrowed shoes. 

 

“I, uh, I made breakfast. Incase you were-“, 

 

Frederick snapped back “Why are you in my room? Food? I was nearly killed last night! What makes you think I want to eat at a time like this? I am a wanted man, Mr. Graham and the least you can do is let me get some much needed sleep! Now get out! Out!”

 

 

Will didn’t say another word, he shot a glare at Frederick and left the room silently. His fading footsteps followed by the sound of car keys jingling in hand and the front door slamming. Frederick’s heart was beating faster then the speed of light. His hair clung to his sweaty forehead, his shirt and briefs hugged his body. His breathes were short and erratic. Frederick threw his face into his hands,

 

_you’re okay._

_you’re alive._

_you’re alive…_

 

Frederick could smell the sweetness of cinnamon glide into the room, removing his hands he took a deep breathe through the nose. Sunshine glistened on the December snow outside and created a golden glow in the spare room of the Graham house. Frederick felt a sliver of guilt creep up his spine. Pulling back the covers the doctor discovered a wetness in his briefs and a still rather raging hard-on. His cheeks went red with embarrassment.

 

His eyes wandered through the bedroom until they located his cane. The clatter it made as it hit the floor echoed inside his skull. Unconsciously Frederick placed a hand on his stomach, fingering the t-shirt’s fabric. He slowly lifted it up, reviling his smooth exotic skin, an off pink slash ran down his chest, onto his stomach and ended at the top of his navel. A thin trail of hair ran from his navel and into his black briefs.

 

_I’m okay_ he assured himself.

 

 


End file.
